


As Does My Own Heart

by InnerSpectrum



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Holmes Brothers, Mycroft Feels, Season 3 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Mycroft Holmes is one of the most powerful people in the word. Yet even he is helpless to stop the exile of his baby brother to a mission that all but guarantees his death in a few months. He watches as his brother says goodbye to the only other person that matters in Sherlock's heart - John Watson.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	As Does My Own Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Season 3 finale: The last few minutes on the airfield from Mycroft's point of view.

_Someday, this will be over-- only remembered like some half-felt and fading nightmare._

That is what Mycroft Holmes tells himself as he, his brother, and Mycroft’s security man stand on the airfield. Though Sherlock Holmes stands a mere metre from him, he feels the distance between them widening as they watch the sedan stop before them. Sherlock shifts slightly as the occupants exit; Mary Watson, whose door was closest gets out first, but Mycroft’s eyes are on her husband, John Watson.

Mycroft knows this situation is not the fault of John Watson. He knows this.

Technically, Mycroft knows he should blame the wife; that he should blame Mary Watson. It was her lies that were uncovered. It was her truths that led his brother to pull the trigger on Charles Augustus Magnusson. Yes, it was done in protection, but Mycroft knew it was not done for Mary’s protection; it was for John's.

Mycroft had known long before The Fall that Sherlock would figuratively do anything for John’s happiness.

Figuratively. Anything.

_He had figuratively died for him after all._

Sherlock had proved that even now he would literally do anything for John Watson’s happiness.

Literally. Anything.

_He had literally killed for him after all._

Mycroft understood that in a way every single person who stood there at the moment was there either for the protection or for the happiness of one John Hamish Watson. 

_And in the case of my brother for the love of John Hamish Watson; because love IS a much more vicious motivator._

He watches as his brother embraces Mary, exchanging final pleasantries as John circles around from the other side of the sedan to reach them and looks on. Sherlock being physically open with his affection as he greets Mary is such a rare thing. It is all the much more bitter than sweet given the circumstances. He sees as Sherlock and John share a fleeting yet meaningful look.

Thus, Mycroft is not entirely surprised when Sherlock turns to him with his request.

“Since this is likely to be the last conversation I’ll have with John Watson… would you mind if we took a moment?”

He is taken aback that his little brother did not give Mary that same courtesy, then again, in the way Mary held John’s hand, it was as if she already knew this would happen. And she probably had known. Mary was always very perceptive and supportive of the unique relationship between John and Sherlock. John was simultaneously the man closest to his brother's heart and yet the most distant from it. 

_How can he not know?_

Mycroft glances over to his security man with a slight tilt of his head towards the side of the plane. He, security and Mary walk to the wing, giving the two men space.

Mycroft did not miss John’s painful sigh at Sherlock’s words. So, he is not surprised when Watson gives him the slightest squint in dismay after Sherlock passes, before the two men walk a little distance past the nose of the plane for privacy.

Mycroft cannot fault the doctor for his momentary baleful yet pleading gaze.

John is relatively stoic as he and Sherlock converse. The doctor manages a small giggle over something Sherlock has said to him, but a few moments later John turns away. A look crosses his face and Mycroft knows then that John has figured it out. Doctor Watson knows that Sherlock, the true owner of John’s heart despite his marriage to Mary, is never coming back.

This is the second time Watson has had to helplessly witness his best friend commit a form of suicide, but sensing there will be no French waiter in his future this time around.

_A suicide also kills a part the ones left behind._

Their conversation is brief.

_What does one say at a such a time? The usual platitudes will not work here._

Sherlock takes off a glove and extends his hand.

John simply looks at the proffered hand for a moment.

Mycroft can imagine John's thoughts; Mary received a hug and a light kiss on the cheek and all he gets is a hand shake.

It is clear both men… _want_...

_To speak of things that should have been spoken a long time ago…?_

_To embrace…?_

Mycroft's eyes flick to Mary at her short intake of breath at the pause.

_She knows they cannot as well._

If the two men embrace Mycroft knows Sherlock will not get on that plane. If they embrace John will not let him get on that plane.

Mycroft has a moment of indecisiveness on whether that would be a good or bad thing for them.

_Would I stop it if I could?_

The question becomes moot as John's hand grasps Sherlock's and they shake. Their hands hold a moment more; neither willing to relinquish or be relinquished from what they both know is their final touch.

Sherlock reluctantly gives their hands a final pump and they release.

Mycroft all but sees the walls go up between the men, putting emotional distance to the situation they cannot escape from physically as Sherlock then turns and walks away. Sherlock immediately puts the glove on again and clenches that hand tightly.

_As if trying to hold on to the warmth of his best-friend, of the love of his unrequited love's touch a little longer._

Mycroft was sure that John had held on to a sliver of hope the he would have somehow pulled a power play and Sherlock would not leave. He could not fault John for that hope. It was a hope he himself had had. Mycroft knows he is powerful, but he also knows the limit of said power. In spite of his immense power he was no more able to stop Sherlock’s exile from happening than John had been able to stop the event that set the wheels in motion for the exile in the first place.

He sees how that last sliver of hope fades and cracks the wall of emotional distance for a moment; the doctor's heartbreak is evident as John slowly trudges to Mary.

_I am sorry to have failed you as well, John._

Mycroft knows he will never forget the bounce of Sherlock's dark curls as his brother all but hurries to the mobile stairs to board the private jet to parts…

_…better left unknown to John and Mary._

Mycroft goes to sit in the sedan while John and Mary watch the jet begin to taxi down the runway. He is grateful their backs are to him as he needs a moment’s privacy to collect himself.

_Oh, Brother Mine!_

He does not want witnesses to his anguish. He does not want witnesses to his failure that sends his baby brother, whose life he has protected since the day he was born, away to certain death. 

As Sherlock’s plane lifts off in the distance, the thing that gives the Iceman his name, the control his is infamous for - snaps.

_I saved her, our sister, I will save you. Just hold on for a month, two at the most, Brother Mine. I do not care what they say. I will NOT let this be how it ends. I WILL NOT let you die! You WILL walk the streets of London a free man again, just hold on. I swear it, Brother Mine! I SWEAR IT!_

Caught in the momentary spiraling of his own emotions Mycroft gasps when his mobile rings snapping him out of it.

Mycroft is stunned at the information being told to him.

“But that’s not possible."

He steps out of the vehicle as if expecting to actually hear _that voice_ blaring out across the airfield for veracity as he looks to John and Mary.

"That is simply not possible,” he repeats.

He knows the former army captain sees what even Mycroft understands must be a rare perplexed expression on his face, as John lets go of Mary’s hand and approaches him, “What’s happened?”

Mycroft has no idea how a dead Moriarty has pulled off this technological feat and frankly does not care as he silently, gratefully, enthusiastically thanks the deities he does not believe in.

_Oh, thank God! Yes! YES!_

Mycroft is beside himself with suppressed joy. He explains the basics to John and leaves it to John to explain it to Mary as he steps back into the car to immediately recall Sherlock's plane.

Filled with delight, he could not resist the slight tease to Sherlock in the process.

Mycroft had never been so happy to hear the mock annoyance in brother's voice. The mock annoyance covering the very real relief of this miraculous stay of execution. "England? What do you mean, England needs me?" 

Mycroft looks through the sedan's windshield. He and John exchange a brief look before the doctor turns to speak to his wife again. He knows John feels the same elation he feels as the plane banks for its return.

“Yes, Sherlock, England needs you.”

He lowers his emotionally laden voice so they can both can pretend Sherlock does not hear Mycroft's utter relief at not having to send his baby brother to his death before he rings out as they all watch the plane close the distance and land. 

“As does my own heart, Brother Mine, as does my own heart.”


End file.
